u/Primary_Peach2023

I am a beautiful, ugly, and all encompassing mess. And I love that so dearly. I love my anger, I love my sorrow, I love my overreactions, I love my pain. This gives me an even deeper love for my skin tingling joy, the full body chills when I get excited, the feeling of music running through each individual nerve so delicately it causes my brain to go quiet, my ability to express my every emotion in words, and the everlasting ~~feeling~~ knowledge that everything will be okay because I’ve overcome much worse, and most importantly my deep gratitude. How lucky I am to be breathing, be covered in a warm blanket inside of a happy home. How lucky I am to be young, and to have the entire world ahead of me, with the ability to do whatever I want and go wherever I please. All I wanted when I was young, was to be an adult, and to do my makeup, drive a car, sit at a cafe alone, party with my friends, drive to a random field to run in, and I’m here. I’m here and I can’t let myself take those insignificant seeming dreams for granted, because they’re everything to me and more. My dream is to live, not just to survive. I need to feel everything, every moment of suffering and pain, each moment of small hope tucked deeply into the seams of sadness, every feeling of radiant joy that makes up for every bad feeling I’ve ever had, every moment of boredom that seems inescapable, every gnawing, aching, beautiful minute of life I want to feel and experience. I want to accept the times I am miserable, the times I am suffering, so I am able to accept the inevitable times where it will become better. The pain is never for nothing, even when it feels as such; I can connect with others in a way I wish someone had connected with me and I can empathize. Empathy and grace are so rare today, which is understandable when most people are hurting inside. The older I’ve gotten the more I’ve realized I’m not truly different than everyone else, because most people are unfortunately suffering. Not in a massive, dramatic way all the time; but in a way that sits somewhere deep inside of their subconscious, with a refusal to be attended to, gnawing at every inch of their souls until they crack and explode. Though it returns back to where it came from, staying dormant until it hits its limit once again and leaves even more explosively. The feeling is all encompassing, but it is also temporary and most of all: embarrassing. So it seems better to not think of, or shove down, until it returns once more. This is my worst fear, so I rip those feelings out of my subconscious and stare at them with no judgement, analyzing and plucking through them, and giving myself grace. Anger and guilt are just attempts of the ego to not feel what there truly is by only focusing on the effects of it, it’s shame, we feel shame. That feeling is so deep, and so difficult, but it is also the only way to move past something and learn from it. I’ll never be able to take back some things I did to hurt the people I love, and I’ll never forget it. It stays to remind me of what to do differently and what I could learn from it, and I don’t best myself up over it either. Grace, and forgiveness; and shame can be felt equally, though a complicated mix that has to be perfected.

I am a beautiful, ugly, and all encompassing mess. And I love that so dearly. I love my anger, I love my sorrow, I love my overreactions, I love my pain. This gives me an even deeper love for my skin tingling joy, the full body chills when I get excited, the feeling of music running through each individual nerve so delicately it causes my brain to go quiet, my ability to express my every emotion in words, and the everlasting feeling knowledge that everything will be okay because I’ve overcome much worse, and most importantly my deep gratitude.

How lucky I am to be breathing, be covered in a warm blanket inside of a happy home. How lucky I am to be young, and to have the entire world ahead of me, with the ability to do whatever I want and go wherever I please. All I wanted when I was young, was to be an adult, and to do my makeup, drive a car, sit at a cafe alone, party with my friends, drive to a random field to run in, and I’m here.

I’m here and I can’t let myself take those insignificant seeming dreams for granted, because they’re everything to me and more. My dream is to live, not just to survive. I need to feel everything, every moment of suffering and pain, each moment of small hope tucked deeply into the seams of sadness, every feeling of radiant joy that makes up for every bad feeling I’ve ever had, every moment of boredom that seems inescapable, every gnawing, aching, beautiful minute of life I want to feel and experience. I want to accept the times I am miserable, the times I am suffering, so I am able to accept the inevitable times where it will become better.

The pain is never for nothing, even when it feels as such; I can connect with others in a way I wish someone had connected with me and I can empathize.

Empathy and grace are so rare today, which is understandable when most people are hurting inside. The older I’ve gotten the more I’ve realized I’m not truly different than everyone else, because most people are unfortunately suffering.

Not in a massive, dramatic way all the time; but in a way that sits somewhere deep inside of their subconscious, with a refusal to be attended to, gnawing at every inch of their souls until they crack and explode.

Though, it returns back to where it came from, staying dormant until it hits its limit once again and leaves even more explosively. The feeling is all encompassing, but it is also temporary and most of all: embarrassing.

So it seems better to not think of, or shove down, until it returns once more. This is my worst fear, so I rip those feelings out of my subconscious and stare at them with no judgement, analyzing and plucking through them, and giving myself grace.

Anger and guilt are just attempts of the ego to not feel what there truly is by only focusing on the effects of it. “It” is shame, we feel shame.

That feeling is so deep, and so difficult, but it is also the only way to move past something and learn from it.

Not sure what tag to use; this is sharing my win :) , but I wanted to post mainly so that others who feel the same might see and gain a glimmer of hope. I was 100% certain in the first entry that I’d be gone before 19, but my 19th birthday is this upcoming monday! ofc I have years of growth to come, but for the first time in my life I believe that growth is possible!!

#1

sobbing. hunger pains. headaches. for five years. it had blended and i have given up deciphering my moments. my wilting moments that mean nothing, i accomplished nothing. it is endless. it is agonizing. and those i love get sucked in. i cant love, i cant be loved. without pain. i have never experienced a love without pain, an agonizing, traumatizing pain. if it is all I’ve ever known that is how love should be, right? i won’t be appreciated, cared for, or truly loved. but that is my purpose, right? if it is not to live a morbid, loveless future then whatever could it be? what could I be enough for? who could i be enough for? | | | I’m just so fucking annoyed. With myself and my constant awareness of my heart beat and fear I’ll randomly go into cardiac arrest. Ugh just everything kinda sucks ass balls and cheeks rn and idk what to do because it all sucks and everything sucks and I can’t stop having obsessive thoughts about how I am a terrible disgusting human being and it wont go away and it plagues my mind like a constant loop on repeat and it makes me so fucking pisses off I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it. I just want to feel fucking okay why can’t I ever just feel goddamn okay it always has to be some end of the spectrum, I feel like I want to die and then an hour later I am on top of the world but since the hospital visit it hasn’t been like that. It feels like that experience ripped the life out of me and I feel over and can’t get back up and idk what to do or where to go from here. That always happens but it never stays this long. Just fucking ugh. Everything sucks ass and I’m tired and I can’t stop thinking about how to stop thinkiing and it fucking sucks. I CANT FEEL BETTER AND ITS PISSING KME OFFFFFFFFFFFFFDFFFFF. I hate it.

🌟#2 🌟🌟🌟🌟

My OCD says I must find a solution to this query right now, in this moment, and that part of urgency feels so important. But if I don’t figure this out nothing will change, my life will proceed, and I will eventually come across the answers I so desperately long for in this moment; but only when that longing stops will I come across them. Only when I can hold them gently, with love and care. My longing seems so unenjoyable but perhaps it’s just a protection from answers I cannot fully hold or comprehend right now. There will always be another possible doubt or another question to be asked and eventually, regardless of the conversation’s topics, you will reach a point of questioning something that no one can answer. Uncertainty seems so scary simply because it is hiding something unknown, and our imaginations can create a multitude of stories depicting what that hiding figure might be. There will always be a “maybe,” or a “what if,” because there will always be queries we cannot understand in this lifetime. Wisdom does not come from analyzing every possibility before acting, but rather in acting regardless of an uncertainty that will never uncovered. Waiting for certainty of an outcome to act is not a strategy, it’s just fear wearing a disguise that intends you must wait for something before you begin living. When I realized that this wasn’t courage and strategy, just fear wearing a mask, I began to be mean to that fear. How dare it conceal itself with positive intent when in reality all it was doing was tricking me into making the wrong decisions!! I was so angry and sometimes still am, that it’s held me back for far too long because it is a little whiney baby. A new character was created to shove it away, make it feel wrong, so that I could live my life the way I wanted. Yet in my attempts to clear my head, it was only more overwhelmed with the constant back and forth between my fear and the bully of that fear. It made fear grow, and it only made my life more difficult. Something in me was so hurt from not having an answer to her questions, her doubts being called stupid and irrational didn’t make them go away it just made them feel wrong for existing. But I realized that yes, I can’t let my fears control me, but at the same time I can’t attempt to control them. When I was young and scared it was treated as insignificant, my feelings were wrong based on the situation, and I turned that onto myself in my head without even noticing. So I began to answer in a way I wished someone would have answered me, when my fear says “what if this happens?” I tell it “thankyou for trying to protect me. yeah that could happen, and it could not. either way I’ll be here for you afterwards and it’ll be okay eventually.” Because fear can only feel irrational if you aren’t the one feeling it.